


Sticky Coffee Lips & Fumbling Fingers

by junxouji



Category: EXO (Band), K-pop
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Best Friends, M/M, gross fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-14
Updated: 2014-11-14
Packaged: 2018-02-25 08:03:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2614382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junxouji/pseuds/junxouji
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because Jongin was a professional fuck up. It wasn’t like he tried to get himself into trouble, it was just trouble stuck to him like a thirsty bit of bad karma.</p><p>Nothing was cool about Jongin. Not the guy who wanted to be human more than anything else. He tried to be human. At least by definition. Jongin was the guy who worked in the coffee shop with messy hair and always looked like he didn’t sleep enough. He was the guy who was the sensitive ballerino that always had a lingering coffee vanilla bean smell following him. He was the guy with one friend and barely understood how anyone could deal with his moodiness or eternal grouchiness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sticky Coffee Lips & Fumbling Fingers

**Author's Note:**

> forever unbeta'ed.

Because Jongin was a professional fuck up. It wasn’t like he tried to get himself into trouble, it was just trouble stuck to him like a thirsty bit of bad karma.

 

Nothing was cool about Jongin. Not the guy who wanted to be human more than anything else. He tried to be human. At least by definition. Jongin was the guy who worked in the coffee shop with messy hair and always looked like he didn’t sleep enough. He was the guy who was the sensitive ballerino that always had a lingering coffee vanilla bean smell following him. He was the guy with one friend and barely understood how anyone could deal with his moodiness or enternal grouchiness.

(Though Jongin became much more tolerable once he ate.)

 

Instead he was the demon who fed on the dreams of people so he could exist in such a world. Because Jongin really liked coffee. He really liked ballet. And he really liked the semi-shitty life he lived that was much preferable than the life he had before he ascended on Earth. He was good at being the easily unnoticeable barista who took naps during his breaks. He was good at being the dancer who shined on stage but easily disappeared when he put his pointe shoes and fucking leotards away. Even now leaning against the seat in the coffee shop on one of his breaks, he sipped the oprah chai latte he wondered what type of person liked cinnamon mixed with black tea. He was a strange one, he supposed.

 

He wasn’t cocky enough to think maybe the world had a hidden meaning for him. Because he didn’t need to understand everything and there probably wasn’t some conceptualized meaning in the universe for his mere existing. He wasn’t that important, anyway. He just liked living as a human. He liked his job even if he spilled coffee on people a lot. He liked dancing even if the lead was always given to someone else. He liked his apartment even if there was a leak in the ceiling. He liked his life though he was verging on anti-social and becoming a devoted coffeeholic.

(Coffee liqueur was his favorite.)

 

Even now knowing he was staring at someone, deep in his own thoughts only brought back to reality when he saw them shuffle uncomfortable in his gaze across the coffee shop he thought wow, my life isn’t so shitty after all. Or maybe he was great at deluding himself.

* * *

 

 

Because Jongin was a professional  fuck up . It wasn’t like he tried to get himself into trouble, it was just trouble stuck to him like a thirsty bit of bad karma.

His eyes traveled over the pale expanse of the blonde male. Sehun was fast asleep. Usually Jongin was first passed out-- because God Jongin slept like a dead man. A army of alarms wouldn’t wake him even if they tried desperately. He laid on his side, curiously watching his best friend. Sehun’s lashes were light brown and contrasted greatly with his pale skin. His lips were thin, subtle and pink. Like two half petals.

Sehun was a hypnotizing ballad Jongin couldn’t get out of his head. He was the sun and Jongin was a hungry little flower wanting to soak in his rays. 

For him, there was a world outside of reality that he could morph beneath his fingertips. The reality was life was  shit for the twenty-one year old barista. He came from a shitty abusive home, had a shitty part-time job, and everyone who came in his life quickly left when they sensed the utter chaos swirling in the pits of his fragile mind. He ran away, living on the streets of Seoul when he was sixteen. He grew up, raising himself. Granted, he did a crap job but in order to be someone, he had to rise above the mess. He  wanted  to. He just didn’t have the strength anymore. He was broken and he was okay with letting himself remain broken.

He loved Sehun you see. He leaned and grew towards his radiance. He became addicted, became  dependent on Sehun for his happiness. But the drugs, the unresolved anger, the fights, the way his world was falling apart.. It was just too much for Sehun sometimes—  He didn’t want to show his hurt. He couldn’t. Not after he had worked so  fucking hard to piece himself together. Sehun couldn’t find out.

He found solace in watching Sehun sleep. He might be too dependent on drugs and alcohol now but every great artist had their own vice. Instead he relishes in the haze of his altered state of mind. True art was created from the subconscious. He dances  to escape and to close his heart from those who could hurt him.

There is a part of Jongin’s heart that aches for love— for any type of acceptance since everyone he’s ever had in his life hasn’t cared. He wants to fall so desperately in love he can’t breath. He wants to soak in their presence and  dance  them as his muse. He wants to cherish their bodies with soft velvet kisses and protect them from harm. He wants to fall asleep at their side on sunny days. Wake up to their warm smiles on rainy days. He wants to smother himself in their love. Jongin wants to kiss their lips and taste red wine. He wants to leave his marks on their pale skin and pepper their body with love bites. He’s a dreamer. He’s a romantic. And that’s his illness. Because no one is as perfect as you can imagine them.

He loves with every fiber of his being.

Nothing was cool about Jongin. Not the guy who wanted to be human more than anything else. He tried to  be human. At least by  definition . Jongin was the guy who worked in the coffee shop with messy hair and always looked like he didn’t sleep enough. He was the guy who was the sensitive ballerino that always had a lingering coffee vanilla bean smell following him. He was the guy with one friend and barely understood how anyone could deal with his moodiness or eternal grouchiness. 

He wants to hold Sehun close even if for a little while. The same Sehun sleeping peacefully next to him. Sehun’s breath was soft as Jongin moved closer to the warmth. He pressed his face against his neck, holding him securely. Sehun, his sweet Sehun. His best friend.

Instead he was the  demon who fed on the dreams of people so he could exist in such a world. Because Jongin really liked coffee. He really liked ballet. And he really liked the semi-shitty life he lived that was much preferable than the life he had  before . He was good at being the easily unnoticeable barista who took naps during his breaks. He was good at being the dancer who shined on stage but easily disappeared when he put his pointe shoes and fucking leotards away. He liked oprah chai latte. He wondered what type of person liked cinnamon mixed with black tea.  He was a strange one , he supposed. 

He wanted to know every ounce of Sehun’s skin. He wanted to bind him to him. After all, Sehun was a drug to him. He had never thought anything else. And he loved the lies Sehun told him-- “ Jongin you know I care about you.” Sehun would say looking into his eyes.

Let’s face it-- Sehun was better than heroin. 

He was sweeter than candy. More bitter than dark chocolate. More sultry than spices. More beautiful than anyone he had ever seen. So,  why would Sehun care about him? Jongin who could barely take care of himself?

He wasn’t cocky enough to think maybe the world had a hidden meaning for him. Because he didn’t need to understand everything and there probably wasn’t some conceptualized meaning in the universe for his mere existing. He wasn’t that important, anyway. He just liked living as a human. He liked his job even if he spilled coffee on people a lot. He liked dancing even if the lead was always given to someone else. He liked his apartment even if there was a leak in the ceiling. He liked his life though he was verging on anti-social and becoming a devoted coffeeholic. 

(Coffee liqueur was his favorite.)

Sehun was a drug to Jongin. He often thought about all of the idolizing girls who clung to his best friend and he wasn’t sure whose hands he wanted to break more. His own or theirs?

Sehun stirred slightly in his arms and Jongin didn’t move. Being best friends had perks. They often slept closely. Jongin would complain about being lonely and Sehun was just  so warm-- Sehun never refused him which made him more insane with his feelings.

How much wronger could this get? How much more pathetic?

“You’re awake?” Sehun mumbled in his sleep as he cuddled towards Jongin, wrapping arms around the other’s tan torso pressing against the hot bare skin. “Why? Did you not sleep well?”

Sehun was the cause of his insomnia.

“No, I just woke up.” Jongin lied, the bags under his eyes perfect proof.

Loving Sehun was like loving a storm-- to be more specific, it was like loving a storm. It would become calm between then and then Jongin’s chest would suddenly explode with pressure. Every fiber of his being was programed to love Sehun, he thought. The idea of not a forever with Sehun was a uncomfortable idea he didn’t want to dwell on.

Jongin was calm on the outside. But he was always thinking on the inside. Every thought ultimately went back to Sehun. 

What should I eat? I wonder if Sehun has ate.

I am tired. But I need to stay awake to see Sehun home safely.

I love Sehun. And he doesn’t  fucking see it.

He knew his life circulating around the other wasn't healthy. He was obsessed. But he would never hurt Sehun. Touching Sehun would be suicide. He loved him more than he loved himself.

“Go back to bed. It’s still early.” Sehun said quietly as he groaned quietly.

Jongin pressed a feather light kiss to Sehun’s closed eyelids. He wanted nothing more than to never leave that bed. He’d love him forever. It didn’t hurt as much if he could remain this close to Sehun for the rest of forever.

Ultimately Jongin was a vessel to love. He had a heart and he had given it to Sehun. Unknowingly Sehun had the power to make Jongin bend.

A person you fall for somes from anywhere. You just have to be open to the feeling. And damn, was Jongin so open. So fucking vulnerable.

He liked Sehun’s dialect. He loved his lisp. He loved the shy way Sehun didn’t talk to strangers often. He loved how they slept and Sehun gravitated to him like he was being lured to his body warmth. He loved how Sehun would whisper how important Jongin was to him. He loved how it was just the two of them-- he wasn’t one to share. 

He loved Sehun’s jealousy when Jongin had suggested they make other friends. Granted, Sehun hadn’t talked to him for a few days but when he did he had cried and said he hadn’t wanted to lose Jongin. Jongin felt guilty after that and never thought of finding anyone else. All his time belonged solely to Sehun.

Sehun was gentle. He was oblivious. And utterly devoted to Jongin and his friendship. There was a million and one reasons why Jongin loved him. Yet, there wasn’t one for Sehun to return his feelings.

How many times had he made Sehun cry?

The first time Sehun caught him doing drugs. His friend had cried  so bad even Jongin hurt. He had held him promising him he wouldn’t anymore. He didn’t want Sehun to suffer because of his choices. He didn’t want his tears-- he didn’t deserve them.

Sehun had cried another time when he finally asked about Jongin’s past. His abusive parents, his fucked up life. How he had ran away when he was young to stop the senseless beatings. How he had whored himself to pay for little things. At least, until he got a real job.

Sehun had cried when Jongin had been careless and he saw the scars of his self hate. Sehun had kissed each mark begging Jongin to never harm himself again.

Sehun had cried then yelled when Jongin came to their shared apartment one night after not showing up the day before.  He had been worried and Jongin was so selfish! He never had seen Sehun so angry.

Jongin was no good for him but he was too weak to leave him.

His fingers traced down Sehun’s thigh. Sometimes he thought Sehun knew. How could he not? Sehun’s soft breath hitched quietly as Jongin’s slender fingers hooked behind his knees bringing his lean legs around his waist more firmly pressing against him.

Sehun had to  feel Jongin’s pusling desire.

“J-Jongin?” Sehun asked, his eyes batting open as he looked at his best friend confused. But Jongin could tell.  Sehun knew . He knew how he felt but he was hesitant because he was scared.

Hell, Jongin was scared as well. But he was tired of fighting it.

“I’m going to make love to you.” Jongin stated as if were the most natural thing ever. Sehun’s eyes widened slightly as a rosy blush traced up his neck and to his cheeks.

There was no resistance in Sehun. He had locked his fingers together in strands of Jongin’s dark hair. “Promise me, you won’t leave me.” Sehun said in a hushed whisper, “Promise me that we can grow old together. That we will cuddle when it’s raining. That when it’s sunny you’ll kiss my bare skin in the sun. That one day I can look to my side and kiss every smile wrinkle that forms on your face. Promise me you’ll always be here and you can.”

Jongin leaned closely. His lips barely ghosted around Sehun’s and he closed his eyes for a second. “I can promise you that and more. I wouldn’t ever leave you Sehun. Not if you tried to pry me off.” Jongin muttered, “You’ve had to seen it. How my eyes follow you around a room. How I make excuses to touch you.”

Sehun smiled faintly. “Of course. Because I make sure to stare back at you when you aren’t looking.”

Jongin properly kissed Sehun then. It was the awkward kiss of two boys who hadn’t ever kissed anyone before. Sehun’s nose brushed his, his lips attacking his own. But it melted with eagerness as they sought each other’s desires with their tongues. Sehun was slow and sultry whereas Jongin was quick and hard. He hummed in the back of his throat when Sehun’s initial shyness disappeared and reached to touch his aching member.

“You’re hurting.” Sehun whispered breaking their lips apart. “Y-you’re probably more dominant than me-- if you want to..you can.”

Jongin’s lips curved. “Are you telling me I can top you?”

Sehun’s face flushed. “In so many words.”

Jongin didn’t need to be told twice. Getting rid of Sehun’s clothes was childplay. He had thought it out in his head so many times the  whats and the  wheres wasn’t important as he finally threw the last offensive garment to the side. Sehun naked was glorious. His skin was the right shade of ivory-- soft and more lean than Jongin’s.

Jongin was too impatient to undress himself properly. Anyway, it would be hot to take Sehun as he was naked and Jongin wasn’t.

Though Jongin was impatient he wasn’t one to find pleasure from hurting Sehun. Worshipping his body was Jongin’s greatest pleasure. Something shifts when you properly become lovers. It’s like molten rock slides over you and you just want the other to smile.

Sehun cried. He promised Jongin wasn’t hurting him badly.

“Please Sehun.” Jongin kissed his teary cheeks as Sehun tried to hide his face. “I can stop.”

“N-no. Go.” Sehun mumbled as he let out a sound only Jongin could dream of when he pushed all the way in. His pelvis touched Sehun’s tailbone-- they were that entangled in each other.

Soon Sehun was begging for Jongin to let him on his hands and knees-- he was too embarrassed to be facing Jongin making those sounds.

Jongin wouldn’t let him. Because this way he knew he wasn’t imagining it. That somehow Jongin wasn’t the only one who was in love.

The aftermath of love is calmness. Sehun laid still, covered in Jongin’s scent-- like vanilla and soap with the slight tinge of sex. Jongin’s arm protectively around his waist, his back against Jongin’s chest.

“Does it hurt?” Jongin asked.

“Yes,” Sehun said honestly, “But not very badly. Like I worked muscles that never have been touched before. Not to mention your lips taste like coffee, _my_ golden boy.” He laughed lightly.

“I’m sorry-- I didn’t want it to hurt.”

“Sometimes you have to hurt to feel good..” Sehun paused for a long moment, “I fell in love with you when you told me I had a stupid smile.” Sehun admitted embarrassed. “I feel in love with you over again when you invited me over for the first time and I got to see you sleep.” He turned in Jongin’s warms. “I think it was official when I grew a little bit taller and could look down on you-- you hated that. But you were so cute when you leaned up.”

Jongin pressed a kiss on his shoulder, then his neck, and the last one on his lips. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to hold you like this.”

Sehun smiled knowingly. “Yes, I do.” He said simply. “I’ve been waiting longer.”

 


End file.
